


First Times

by HarryJ96



Series: Time After Time [1]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Smut, not that smutty tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarryJ96/pseuds/HarryJ96
Summary: T/C's first time! Featuring: consent, communication, my attempt at fluff, soft girlfriends.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Series: Time After Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949536
Comments: 8
Kudos: 138





	First Times

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for sexy times. Consent and communication are the main characters in this story.

You could hardly believe it when she’d said yes. When you had burst out in the middle of a card game with a loud  _ will you go on a date with me _ , when she’d looked at you with big, serious brown eyes and said  _ yes.  _

You’d taken her out not a week later. You’d gotten tickets to the Georgia O’Keeffe exhibit that was showing in your city. She’d seemed genuinely touched, knowing that you weren’t particularly keen on museums. You’d loved it though. She could look at art for hours, which gave you ample time to look at her. You’d thought of everything, it seemed, until you got to the picnic you had planned and realized you’d forgotten to bring any sort of cutlery. It was quite the oversight, considering the cauliflower gnocchi you’d prepared the night before was decidedly  _ not  _ finger food. You’d wanted to cry, but she had thrown her head back and laughed, then scooped up a handful of gnocchi with her fingers and plopped it onto her tongue. “Delicious,” she’d said around a mouthful of pasta. You’d beamed at her and followed her lead, reaching your own hand into the Tupperware container. 

When you’d dropped her off at her apartment that night, she’d kissed you outside your car. You drove the whole way home with a giddy smile plastered to your face.

Your second date—if you could call it that—was somehow equally wonderful. You’d gotten sick the night before, coming down with an abnormally awful cold, and you’d called the next morning to cancel. She’d shown up on your doorstep anyway, with a bouquet of daisies (your favorite flower, which you couldn’t remember telling her), a bottle of DayQuil, and a big box of French fries. You’d scarfed down the fries together while watching  _ Legally Blonde.  _ You couldn’t remember laughing so hard in your life, especially when she got up and gave you her best bend-and-snap. She’d tucked you into bed at 6 pm with a kiss to your forehead, and you’d fallen asleep to the thought that this was the best date you’d ever had. 

That was before tonight. Tonight, she’d wanted a re-do of your last date. Tonight, she’d properly wined and dined you. She’d shown up at your door with another bouquet of flowers—tulips, this time—and a book you’d asked to borrow. She’d waited patiently for you while you searched for a vase, occupying herself by petting your dogs and refilling their water bowl. When you got to her car, she’d held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat. A part of you had wanted to tease her for her chivalry. You’d refrained, though. This wasn’t a joke to her, you knew. This was her showing you how much she truly cared, how much she wanted to do right by you. Instead, you’d smiled and thanked her, and held her hand over the center console as she drove you to a fancy restaurant you’d never been to. 

Now, you’re back at your doorstep. She’s hovering behind you, a little awkwardly, while you fish your keys out of your purse. She’d like an invitation inside, you suspect, but doesn’t quite know how to go about it. You struggle a little bit with the lock, but after shimmying the key a few times, the door gives and you step inside. You turn to her with a shy smile. “Would you like to come in?” you ask sweetly. She gives you a shaky smile, then looks at the ground, scuffing the toe of her shoe into your welcome mat. 

“There’s no pressure,” you reassure her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders timidly. 

“I’ve never had sex before,” she blurts out, the tips of her ears turning pink. You smile softly at her. You’d figured as much, with how nervous she’d been to hold your hand, let alone kiss you. 

“There’s no pressure,” you repeat. “We’ll take it as slow as you want.” She nods slowly and lets herself be taken by the hand. 

***

You’ve been kissing for a while now. It had started out slow and sweet, but had gradually turned a little, then a lot, hotter. Still sweet, though. She was always sweet. 

The kissing is wonderful but, gosh, you’d really like for her to touch you.  _ Properly  _ touch you. You’re dying for her to start doing anything beyond what she’s been doing—running her hands up and down your arms and across your back while she kisses you thoroughly. 

You realize you’re going to have to take the lead with this. You fiddle with the hem of her shirt, tugging on it a little. “Can I take this off?” you ask, looking right into her eyes. She doesn’t answer, just takes a step back and pulls the fabric over her head herself, not breaking eye contact. You stifle a gasp at the sight of her abs. It’s not like you’ve never seen them. You’ve shared a hotel room with her many times, and a locker room many times more. But now, you’re allowed to look. You’re allowed to look  _ for the sake of looking.  _

You finally pull your gaze away from her perfect muscles and find her still staring into your eyes, her gaze serious as she waits for you to make another move. You smile at her and play with the straps of her sports bra. “This too?” you ask hopefully. She nods solemnly, then tugs the bra over her head as well. 

You can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe she’s standing here, bare-chested, in front of you, and you get to look. You swear under your breath. She bites her lip, as if to suppress a smile. “Shut up,” you mutter, and now she full-on laughs. 

“C’mere,” she says, holding out her arms for a hug. You step into her embrace, gasping at the feeling of her chest against your dress. You kiss her languidly, nipping at her bottom lip until she cries out, then soothing it with your tongue. Suddenly, you have no patience for the fabric still between you. You take a step back, turn around, then smile at her seductively over your shoulder. 

“Take off my dress?” you request. She blinks at you for a few moments as her brain catches up. 

“Uh. Y-yeah. Yes,” she stammers as she moves toward you. Whether from nerves or excitement, her hands are shaking and she struggles with the zipper until she’s practically growling with frustration.  _ Finally _ , the dress is unzipped and the midnight blue fabric pools around your ankles. You kick it aside, leaving you in only your lacy gray thong and strappy heels. 

“Oh. Oh my- you- you’re so beautiful,” she whispers reverently. You smirk at her, a little smugly. She pays it no attention, her eyes drifting up and down your body again and again. 

“You can touch me,” you insist. Her hungry gaze is starting to make you a little impatient. You want her hands on you, now. 

“Maybe I just want to look,” she says. She's teasing a little, but you can tell she means it too—like she could actually be satisfied to just look at you all night. It makes you feel warm and flustered and beautiful all at the same time. You tug on her hand. 

“Touch me, please,” you whimper. She reaches out for you and cups your breast. It’s the boldest she’s been all night and it makes you tremble. She squeezes and pinches and tugs until you’re positively squirming. You really can’t wait any longer. 

“You wanna move this to the bed?” You mean it to sound sultry, but it comes out a little desperate. The corner of her mouth twitches up and she nods eagerly. She takes a step backward toward the bed and then suddenly freezes. She’s nervous again, you can tell. 

“Hey, we don’t have to,” you rush to reassure her. She shakes her head fervently. 

“I want to,” she insists. “I do. It’s just...” she trails off, staring at the floor. She shakes her head again. You take a step toward her and rub your hand soothingly down her arm. 

“Tell me,” you say, softly. She raises her head and gulps, still not quite meeting your eyes. 

“I don’t- I’m not sure if I can-” she cuts off as the tips of her ears flush pink. 

“You’re not sure if you can what?”

“I’m not sure if I can come,” she confesses, barely above a whisper. 

“Oh, honey.” You place your hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. “It doesn’t have to be about that,” you tell her. 

“It doesn’t?” she murmurs, and you can tell she’s really, genuinely asking. You shake your head. 

“It should feel good. As long as you feel good, and we feel good about what we’re doing, then it’s okay if you don’t orgasm. It’s not a contest. You just have to tell me if it stops feeling good or if you wanna stop, okay?” You stare deep into her eyes. Finally she nods. You stroke your hand over her hair and place a kiss against her jaw. “Let me make you feel good, baby,” you breathe against the shell of her ear. She shivers and nods again. You grin and take her hand, leading her over to the bed. 

***

In the end, she doesn’t last long. 

It turns out she’s  _ very _ sensitive when she’s worked up like this, and she falls apart after a few shorts minutes with your long fingers inside her. She shakes and sighs, and comes with a low whine as she presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes shut. 

It takes her a while to recover. She lays beneath you, her body completely slack and her breath coming in shaky, uneven bursts. You extract yourself carefully and get up to get her a glass of water. She makes no move to take it from you when you return, instead just staring at you with glassy eyes and a blissed-out smile on her face. You set the glass on the nightstand. 

“Was that good?” you giggle as you climb over her and cuddle up against her side. She turns to look at you with that wide, dopey grin.

“So good,” she sighs. She kisses your cheek, then your lips, and then moves to straddle you. When she’s settled above your hips, she kisses you again. “Can I return the favor?” she whispers, uncharacteristically smoothly, against your lips. 

“ _ Please _ ,” you breathe out. 

She’s a little clumsy at first, fumbling to find your entrance, and then not knowing quite what to do when she finally does. You talk her through it as best you can, and eventually she finds some sort of rhythm. It’s still a little awkward, and not quite what you like, but she’s so attentive and so deliberate and you’ve never been more turned on during sex in your life.

You know you’re not going to get  _ there  _ with what she’s doing. You let her touch you for a few more minutes before you press gently against her sternum and murmur her name. She stops immediately and stares at you with questioning eyes. You smile at her. 

“Can I finish?” you ask. She immediately blushes and her eyes fill with tears. You can’t stand to see her upset, so you rock up and kiss her, cupping her cheek gently. 

“You’re making me feel so good,” you assure her. “Let me show you how I like to finish.” She nods and you kiss her once more, before reaching for her hand and tugging it back between you. Her eyes widen when she realizes what you’re doing. Her jaw drops into an astonished ‘o’ and her tears rapidly fade as you get yourself off with her hand. You come quickly. You can feel her dripping onto your leg and you think she may have come again too, just from the feeling of her hand against you and the little bit of friction from your knee.

Her body goes limp again as she collapses against you, pressing her face into your neck. “Babe,” you giggle, “Get off me!” You shove her playfully.

“No!” she mutters petulantly into your neck, but quickly rolls off of you so you can breathe properly again. She props herself up on her elbow and grins down at you.

“That was the most amazing thing I have ever felt in my whole entire life,” she tells you, so earnestly you could cry. 

“Me too. The best I’ve ever felt.”

“Really?” Her grin widens, then turns bashful. “I’m sorry that you didn’t...you know-” You shush her with your fingers against her lips. 

“The  _ best _ I’ve ever felt,” you repeat. “I can’t believe that was only our first time. That was so amazing, babe. With a little more practice, we’re gonna be unstoppable.” She turns away shyly and buries her face in her pillow. When she finally looks up, she’s all smiles. 

“That sounds good,” she says, and her voice cracks like a teenage boy’s. You start to giggle. It seems to break the tension, easing your nerves from all the anticipation of this night, and soon you’re both wheezing with laughter and clutching at your chests. When you’ve finally caught your breath, she lays her head on your shoulder and looks up at you adoringly. 

“So, about that practice…” she begins. 

“Mmm?”

“What do you say we start tonight?” she exhales as she snakes a hand down your thigh. You shiver and grin. 

“I say...what are we waiting for?”

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! Let me know what you think!


End file.
